Page 3 of Cold Snap

Landry

A s soon as she comes in, I know she’s here. Teresa.

And damned if I’m not going to have to beat men off her tonight. What the hell is her brother doing letting her out wearing what she’s got on! If she were to bend over, I would easily be able see her panties, which she better be wearing.

I keep my eyes on her while keeping my distance.

Teresa Abernathy is not for me. She’s young and sweet and too pretty for some rough ass bar owner that has had a hard life and started over more times than I should have been allowed to.

I’m thirty-two. My world is this bar. It’s all I’ve got in this world.

Not that I don’t have some good friends and my volunteer work, but most often it’s this bar.

Land’s End. I’ve been told by more than one person -especially the old women who come in on Wednesday nights and call themselves the Matchmakers Club- that I need a woman.

And just like every time they say it, I ask the same question. What would I do with one if I had her?

My eyes drift back over to Teresa. Terry. Everyone calls her Terry, but I just can’t make myself call her that. It’s a short, blunt name, and the woman is soft and…curvy. She’s clearly a Teresa.

And what would I do with a woman like Teresa? She’s not had the life I’ve had. She grew up with two loving parents who made sure she had everything she needed. I hardly know my parents, and what I do know, I don’t like. She’s bright and hopeful. I’m…well, I’ve become somewhat jaded to life.

I'm friends with her dad; he’s a good man.

I play poker with him on Monday nights when I’m not on call.

And I rub shoulders with her brother, who is a police officer, when I volunteer for the fire department.

There’s no way I’m doing anything with her, but every time I think about having a woman, it’s her I think of.

Lately, it’s been getting worse with me waking up at night, hard and throbbing and covered in sweat.

Dreams of her cloud my mind, and if she were anywhere near me, I would say fuck it to everything and do something both of us would probably regret.

Now she’s in my bar, wearing a dress that barely covers her ass, offering me nothing but temptation, and all I can think about is spanking her ass.

Flipping that little dress up and spanking her soft, round ass until she cries out my name and begs me to…

nope! That can’t happen. I left the life of a bad boy, trying to start shit and break hearts behind me. The last thing I need is…Teresa.

That doesn’t mean I can’t look. And threaten to beat the shit out of anyone looking too long. Hell, I can even lie to myself about it and say I’m doing it for her dad and brother. Does it make me a bastard? Yes, it does. Is it going to stop me? No, not a chance.

She walks over to me and leans those soft tits against the bar, making me want to kick everyone out and fuck her right here and now.

“Hey, stranger. What can you get a girl with a broken heart?”

“Who the hell broke your heart?”

She giggles at my anger as I’m reaching for the gun I keep for safety right under the bar. “Not me, silly. Oakley. She got dumped by that ass, Tommy.”

“Stay away from him. I don’t like the look of him.” And I would know. I used to run with guys like him when I was younger.

She giggles and leans forward even more. I can’t help but lower my eyes and look. “You sound just like a father.”

Well, fuck!

“You offering to be my Daddy, Land?” She licks those cherry red lips and leans even closer -and when the hell did I lean forward so our faces are so close? “You want to come tuck me in at the end of the night?”

“If you’re skirt comes up too high, I might think about spanking that ass, baby.”

She giggles like I’m joking, but I’m fucking not! She pulls back and sinks her teeth into the swell of her bottom lip in a mockery of shyness.

“Give us something colorful and keep them coming, Daddy.”

I’m about to jerk her over the fucking bar and take her right her in front of everyone when she turns and sways back to the table she and her two friends are sitting at.

I watch her for most of the night, watch her dance and laugh, and play with her friends.

The little tease doesn’t have a clue who she’s playing with.

Hell, I’m not sure I know who I become when I’m around Teresa.

Close to midnight, both girls go out the front, and I start to make my way over to the door.

I want to make sure they get to their car alright, or if they call an Uber, I want to stare down the driver to make sure whoever it is understands that if they don’t get home, I’ll know exactly who to track down.

Several people hold me up, so I’m late getting out the door. I’m fairly certain I already missed the girls, but when I come out, it’s to find Waylon Abernathy tossing Teresa’s little friend up over his shoulder.

“Waylon, that you?”

“Landry.” The feminine voice comes from the wrong female. I don’t want Oakley Nesbit calling my name out. And if Waylon’s look is any indication, he doesn’t want her calling out to me any more than I do. “Help me, Landry.”

Well, shit. Now, I have to make sure she is alright.

“Waylon, maybe you should…”

“Maybe you should think long and hard about what you say next, Landry.”

Teresa’s head pops out from behind her brother, where she is trying to quieten her friend down. I put my hands up to show him I want no part in coming between him and Oakley, but I also won’t let just anyone take her away when I’m pretty sure she is good and tipsy.

“I’m just saying, maybe you should set her down, let her take a breath and…”

“Landry, either I take her home with me or I take you to jail for serving underage girls.”

“Underaged?” My eyes flash to Teresa, and she rolls her eyes and shakes her head like her brother doesn’t know anything. “Look, either way, I can’t just let you take her when she doesn’t want to go with you.”

“Landry,” Oakley calls out for me again, and I have to fight the recoil that starts at the bottom of my back.

She’s not calling for me out of some need or want.

She’s trying to get away from Waylon. She’s crying out for help, and I have to put the thought of wanting to hear Teresa say my name out of my head and focus.

Waylon brings his hand up to pop Oakley on the ass, and I can’t stop my brows from climbing up my forehead. I’ve never seen Waylon do something like that, and I’ve known the guy for years now.

“You handle your bar, Landry. I’ll handle Oakley.”

“It’s like that.” I nod and turn, but not before seeing the shocked look on Teresa’s face. Her eyes come to mine, and I can’t help but lick my lower lip at the thought of doing the same damned thing to her.

I’m not about to ask Waylon how old his fucking sister is right now or mention the fact I was drinking with her last week while holding her hand and flirting a little. This is not the time for that.

“Ten-four, buddy. Ten-four.”

I make sure to grab Teresa’s eyes again and mouth, “I’ll call you later.”

Then I head back into the bar. She can take it how she wants, but I’m finding out just who was ‘underage’ and what the hell is going on with her. The damned woman is making me crazy. I’m thrown off my game the entire rest of the night. And I can’t help but look at the damned clock repeatedly.

Yeah, I don’t need a woman when I have my head full of a fairy-sized brunette running amok, crashing through my world, and keeping me up at night.